by Celia Jerome
I decided to play Scarlett and think about it tomorrow. Today? Today it hurt.
Melissa coughed, reminding Matt he still had those last two patients to see. As I walked Peg and the bouncing puppies out the door, Melissa sneered and recommended club soda for the stain on my blouse. I almost told her she could use my grandmother’s vanishing cream on the dark circles under her eyes, but I didn’t truly believe it worked … at vanishing people, that is.
Over at Matt’s house, I played with the dogs while Peg made the calls to the prospective owners and, predictably, came away crying. They’d all heard about the shipwreck and they all demanded to know how long the dogs had been in the water, what kind of treatment they’d received, their current conditions. Peg was honest.
As a result, a fellow breeder no longer wanted Mollie, not if she was traumatized. Too much work.
Moses’ buyers had planned to show him in the puppy classes. The shaved IV spots would take months to grow in and they could not count on his future looks or personality, etc., so they backed out. Too much wasted time.
Only Maggie’s family still wanted her. They had three kids and lived in a lighthouse on the coast. If Maggie could play and swim, she’d still be the perfect pet. I wasn’t sure about the swimming part, not after what they’d endured, but she played hard, knocking me over once and stealing one of Matt’s shoes near the door.
Having to return the deposits for the other two meant having to absorb two-thirds of the cost of the cruise ship also. Matt walked in to see Peg sitting on the floor of his living room surrounded by three dogs almost as wet as they’d been last night, from her tears, and one chewed-up sneaker.
I could see his face go white in panic. “It’s okay, she just cries a lot. You kind of get used to it. And I’m sorry about your sneaker. I thought Peg was watching while I used the john, but she was too busy crying. Why don’t you call Frankie and see if we can fix some of her problems?”
Frankie and his Porsche arrived in minutes, as if he’d been waiting in Paumanok Harbor for the call. Mollie went right to him and licked his face when he bent down, bronzer and all. He promised her a fenced-in yard, a man-made, spring-fed pond, a regular swimming pool, too. And he thought she looked beautiful all bathed and groomed.
We left them in the living room to negotiate while Matt put some cheese and crackers on a plate. I helped by not throwing myself at him.
When we came back, Peg’s green eyes glistened with tears, happy ones now. The only problem was convincing Frankie to leave Mollie here for a few more days to be sure she had no lasting ill effects.
“I guess I’ll have to. Can’t keep her at the Yacht Club anyway. And I need time to get rid of Tina and buy the Land Rover. I decided to keep the Porsche for when I go places without the dog.” He bent over her and promised that wouldn’t happen often. She licked his face again, sneaker smell and all. He laughed. “Two days, Doc?”
“If she’s eating and playing.” He looked pretty certain she would be.
There were hugs and handshakes all around, and a few tears. Mine, too.
Frankie had to go pry Tina out of his suite, after taking her to East Hampton to a fancy dinner. He hugged everyone again for good-bye. Peg sighed.
“He is just what Mollie needs, a strong, generous, affectionate man.”
I wondered if she was speaking for Mollie or for herself.
She went on: “I couldn’t have picked a better family for her. Now I can think about getting Maggie to Nova Scotia, on the cruise ship’s dime. Frankie suggested I ask them for the use of their company jet. My dogs do not fly in any baggage compartment. I’ll insist they pay your bill, too, Matt.”
“It’s all taken care of. Frankie is making a donation to our local charities.”
She sighed again. “What a fine gentleman.”
Frankie was a letch. He’d squeezed my ass. “Maybe you can visit him when you get back from delivering Maggie. To check on Mollie’s condition, of course.”
I swear she gave a Tina-like smile. “Of course.”
Matt wanted to know her plans for Moses. Did she have a waiting list of prospective buyers?
“A long one, though none as suitable as those I’d chosen. But anyone paying his fee will want guarantees I cannot give now. He could be afraid of water, afraid of the dark, afraid of being left alone.”
Now she was talking about me? Nah.
“I have a better idea.” Peg pointed to the big puppy leaning against Matt’s leg. “You take him.”
“Me? I don’t have that kind of money.”
“I don’t need it, not after Frankie offered twice Mollie’s price. Moses adores you. He left my side the instant he heard your footsteps at the door. A Newfie is the most loyal, loving dog in the world. Once he gives his heart, it’s for life. He might even go into a decline if I place him with anyone else. Look how his eyes follow your every move. He went right behind you into the kitchen, didn’t he?”
Little Red did that, too, for the chance at crumbs. Lord knew my dog wasn’t loyal or loving, only fair. He bit me as often as he did strangers.
Peg turned those green cat eyes on Matt. “And he gets along with everything, dogs, cats, children.”
“And parrots,” I put in.
“Well, I never tried my dogs with birds, but I suppose you treat birds here, too. You’ll have to teach him not to chase them, of course, but he’ll learn anything, to please you.”
Matt shook his head. “I work too hard to keep a dog of my own. Too many long hours like yesterday and today.” He looked at me for confirmation.
I didn’t give it. “He can go to work with you. How many dogs of working people can do that? And you have a whole kennel staff happy to look after him when you can’t.” Everyone but Melissa, but I didn’t say that. “And you know you already love him.” His hand hadn’t left the dog’s silky head. I refused to be jealous of the dog, too. Men, women, children, and animals all adored Matt. At least I was in good company. “You want him.”
“I want a lot of things. Frankie’s Porsche, two weeks in the Bahamas …” The look he gave me said he wanted a lot more, from me.
In front of Peg? I blushed, damn it.
He smiled.
I ignored his knowing that I knew what he really wanted. And tamped down my answering want to lean against him like Moses. “Yeah, and I want a penthouse duplex on the East Side.” There, I’d reminded him I was not settling in Paumanok Harbor like some robin that forgot to migrate. “But this one you can have, today.”
His soft smile turned to a grin. Which meant, I supposed, that he supposed that he could have me another day.
I grinned back.
Peg wept.
CHAPTER 20
MATT ORDERED PIZZA AND WE ATE off paper plates. He let Peg pay for it, not because he was cheap or not macho, but because she needed to reclaim her pride and independence.
Her young dogs didn’t beg or whine or go to the door in a subterfuge to get noticed. Little Red and I had come to terms about my meals: he got some. We’d have words when I got home. Which better be soon so Matt could get some rest.
Unless he and Peg stayed up getting better acquainted. Damn.
On the ride home I called the police station. I felt safe, now that Uncle Henry would be home. I told the operator no, this wasn’t an emergency, and I would call him tomorrow. I hadn’t returned his call earlier since I was in Southampton picking up one of the survivors and assisting her to get settled, since she had a broken arm.
“Yeah, Willow. I got all that. Bottom line, you didn’t want to talk to the chief.”
Ah, the joys of Paumanok Harbor.
That call made, confrontation postponed, I considered my own unsettled situation. I liked Matt, more every time I saw him. I know I was waffling again. I wanted him, I didn’t want him. I’d given up men, but gave part of me to this one. So I decided Peg could have him.
Good sense told me to back away before I lost more. And I had good reasons:
A: jealousy. Matt was a chick magnet, and I hated how that caustic emotion made me feel.
B: distance. Paumanok Harbor wasn’t as far from Manhattan as, say, London, where the man I almost married lived. But I didn’t want to live out here. Matt wouldn’t want to give up his practice to live there.
C: scruples. Because of that distance, we’d only have a brief affair, which might be nice, judging from the good night kiss when he walked me to my car. I always felt cheapened after a physical affair, though, not like Susan, who lived for the moment. If our emotions deepened past lust and infatuation, I’d be shattered afterward, when I left.
D: my status as Paumanok Harbor’s resident tsetse fly of epidemic disasters. Matt might be the only person in the village who didn’t hold me to blame, but he would. Or his practice and popularity could suffer.
E: as if there weren’t enough barriers to a happy outcome of what started as a warm friendship, add in a hundred-and-fifty-pound blockade that I helped erect. Matt had Moses now, a big, galumphing puppy who’d grow that big, at least. Smuggle him into my no-dogs-allowed apartment? Have both of them share my bed? And what about Little Red? What if Moses wanted to play with Red like a squeaky toy? I couldn’t do that to my own dog.
Add it all up, and I had reason enough not to let any tender new feelings grow into a major heartache.
But that brief kiss did feel good, tingly to my toes.
You’d think I’d drive the car off the road, the way I vacillated with my own life. It pissed me off, too, that there were always issues. Nothing straightforward, like the way I wrote my books. Kids didn’t have patience for equivocation, if they knew what the word meant. Instant gratification, that’s what they liked, all action without introspection.
Too bad I wasn’t a kid.
Too bad there was a familiar car in front of my house. The big white Ford SUV had the village logo on the doors. And a bubble gum light on the roof. I guess Uncle Henry didn’t get my message.
He hadn’t waited until tomorrow to hold his own council, either. The heavyset man sat on the living room sofa in front of the TV, sandwiched between the two big dogs, while Little Red hid under a chair, one of my socks chewed to a wad of thread. Damn, I should have bought more of them, too, when I shopped with Peg.
Uncle Henry had a mug of coffee in hand and a plate of brownies on the table in front of him.
Thank you, Susan, for making him comfortable. As if I wanted the grizzled old truth-maven grilling me about things I didn’t know or understand!
I kissed his cheek—I’d known him since I was born—and picked up Little Red and kissed his nose. He let me, after I showed him the piece of pizza crust I’d packed up for him when Matt wasn’t looking. The big dogs got some, too.
Uncle Henry wasn’t as easily mollified. “We need to talk, Willy.”
No, we needed to move inland away from danger. I didn’t say that aloud. Why cause panic? Since outright evasion hadn’t worked, I tried going on the offensive. “I have nothing whatsoever to do with your crime spree. Or your electronic thefts.”
“Both of them are out of our hands now. So many initial agencies are on it, they’ll be tripping over each other by tomorrow.”
“I can’t believe they think Russ is involved. He spent the whole night organizing the search and rescue efforts from the command center, so everyone knew what everyone else was doing.”
“That’s why they suspect him. He’s too damn good, with no explanations for how he does what he does. But it’s not only our tech they’re looking at. They’re pretty sure the cybercrimes originated at Town Hall, whether by us or someone using our computers from a distance with spyware they’ve installed. They’ve interviewed the mayor, too, on record, on tape. Problem is, they ask him where he was on such and such a night of a robbery, and he says he can’t remember.”
“Mayor Applebaum can’t remember a lot of things.”
“Which is damned suspicious in any person of interest, especially the mayor of a whole village. Only the county cops can’t remember asking the questions, so they keep repeating them.” He sipped his coffee. “It’d be laughable if it didn’t expose Paumanok Harbor to even more investigation. I’m out of the loop now, but I get the feeling they think a whole bunch of us locals banded together to steal a fortune. They’ve done background checks on everyone, even Lolly, who cleans at night.”
“Isn’t Lolly … ah … ?”
“Handicapped. Slow. She is, but she comes on time, does a good job of cleaning, and never breaks things like the last night janitor we had. The idea of Lolly running some way-technical computer scam is absurd. She can barely spell to leave a note when we need more soap or vacuum bags. They had the poor girl in tears.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, but Russ is working on it on his own. He’ll find whoever’s been messing with our computers. I’m not really worried about that.”
And he wouldn’t have tracked me down to discuss town business. I tried another diversion. “So have they found the missing passenger yet?”
He shook his head. “No, but they’ve got an ID on him. A troubling one.”
“I heard he was old. That can’t help his chances in the water. It’s been almost a full day.”
“More troubling than that. His name was—is, until we get a body—James Everett Harmon, PhD from London, England.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Yup. A direct descendant of Harry Harmon, who was the illegitimate son of the Earl of Royce who founded what much later became the Royce-Harmon Institute for Psionic Research. That first Harmon married the daughter of a Gypsy fortune-teller and a horse trainer. Same genes as a lot of us, now.”
I took a brownie. “That’s why Royce and DUE have been so worried about finding him?”
“That and he was a beloved professor of creative writing.”
I swallowed a bit of brownie wrong and had to go get myself a drink of water. I poured a cup of coffee, too, while I was in the kitchen. God knew I could use the caffeine. This was going to be a long night.
The chief didn’t wait for me to ask questions when I got back and tucked my feet under me in the big easy chair. “There’s more. They say Harmon imagined things, fantastical beasts and odd humans, and he wrote about them. Kind of like Lewis Carroll, who I always figured was on drugs. Maybe he was a relative, too, who knows? Anyway, Professor Harmon never published his stories; he just used them as examples of what the human mind can conjure, for his students. The problem was, he got the ideas when he went off in trances. Dangerous if he was driving, scary if he was giving a lecture. They checked for seizures and sleeping sickness and psychedelic drugs. Nothing. When he returned from wherever his mind took him, he came back enraptured, as if he’d seen the heavenly angels, and full of new stories. Some people thought he was crazy.”
I didn’t.
“Harmon saw things. I don’t know if he spoke to them like you do. He never called them here, like you do.”
“I do not call them!”
Uncle Henry finished his coffee and set it down, nearer me. I got the hint and got up again to refill his cup.
He blew on it to cool the coffee, then took a sip before talking. “Three passengers saw him at the railing, wearing his life jacket, yelling at the wall of water before it hit the ship. Foul worm, he called it, as if the thing were alive, not merely a storm-driven wave or waterspout.”
“Wyrm with a ‘y.’ It’s an ancient word for dragon, or sea serpent.” I gave up. I went to get my sketch pad for the newest book, along with the printouts of the drawings I’d done on the computer.
Uncle Henry flipped through the drawings of the pet store owner who became a superpower. “Looks a lot like someone I know.” He gave me a wink.
Then he got to pictures of Spenser Matthews’ companion. He studied the bird with the fish tail, then the fish with feathers. “I take it this is the rare bird everyone was chasing?”
“Very rare.”
“Talks, thinks, vanishes?”
/> “And helps rescue people and dogs. I think she came to warn us, the same as those dolphins.”
While he studied the drawings, from when I tried different combinations of colors and sizes, I rushed to tell him there were no dolphins in my book, super powered or not. Not yet, anyway.
He flipped the page and inhaled sharply. N’fwend.
He saw how I’d drawn a huge, transparent sea serpent rising from the swirling water that gathered to make it bigger, eyes whirlpools, mouth a bottomless pit big enough to swallow a small boat. Or twenty elderly professors.
Uncle Henry took a silver flask out of his pocket and poured some of its contents into his coffee.
“Uncle Henry!”
“What? I am not on duty. And I can’t have a cigar. You ever hear about driving a man to drink? Your foot’s on the accelerator.”
“I didn’t call it!”
“No? Somehow the wave that’s caused millions of dollars in damage and expenses, not to mention lives lost or people injured, suddenly appears when you write about it. What am I supposed to think?”
“Maybe the professor saw it in a trance!”
“And shouted at it so the thing could suck him in?”
“Why else was he on that cruise ship, anyway?”
“No one seems to know. He packed up one day, told people he was going sightseeing, and left. He’s not senile or sick, so no one could stop him. Poor bastard.”
“I bet he knew what he’d see. He must have spotted the horrible beast in one of his trances and came to verify its existence, to prove his own sanity or to confront it. You don’t think they’ll find him?”
The chief tapped my sketch. “Harmon’s old, like you said. How long could he live in the water, if he didn’t get swallowed? This thing could have dropped his body anywhere along the Eastern Seaboard.”
“So we’ll never know?” If I were Peg, I’d be crying. The man was almost family. Almost like me.
He shrugged. “DUE wants us to keep looking. Harmon’s that valuable. We’ve got patrols up and down the beaches, aerial spotters doing quadrants, and they’ll get dogs and divers back on the ship as soon as they right it, in case those witnesses were mistaken out of their own panic.”
